


Mehh - A Tale of Apprentice Goatherds

by MayContainBlueberries



Category: Chronicles of the Imaginarium Geographica - James A. Owen
Genre: apprentice goatherds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 23:44:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayContainBlueberries/pseuds/MayContainBlueberries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically playing with Houdini and Conan Doyle being adorable, as well as fabulous apprentice goatherds. This is inteneded as a birthday present for my dear friend Mason</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mehh - A Tale of Apprentice Goatherds

“What took you so long?” Houdini asked Doyle as the detective trekked across the pasture towards him.

  
“I had to talk down Verne. He was all for coming over to visit with the goats. I think he’s going through withdrawal.”

  
Houdini chuckled. “Did you assure him his precious Elly Mae was in perfectly good condition?”

  
“Over and over” Doyle said. “Harry, I don’t believe he trusts us.”

  
“Say it isn’t so!” The magician gasped in mock horror. “Why ever would he not!?”

  
Doyle giggled, and surveyed the herd of battle goats. His expression fell slowly.

  
“Harry,” he started.

  
“Yes my dear?”

  
“Have you been watching the goats this whole time?”

  
“Of –of course.”

  
“Hells bells Harry are you still on it about that blasted box!?”

Houdini blushed. “I just… I was just having a quick look. No harm done.”

Doyle snorted, “Yeah, except for the fact that half the herd is missing!”

“Oh, don’t worry Arthur, they’re just – ” Houdini had raised his hand to gesture, and it fell to his side in unison with his expression. “Oh. Bugger.”

 

“I am not telling Jules,” Houdini exclaimed. “He’ll skin me alive! He’ll feed me to his goats!”

“Well I certainly am not,” Doyle snapped. “This is all your fault.”

The magician and the detective had returned to the house where they were attempting to decide what was to be done.

“We could just, er, forget to mention it,” Houdini suggested.

“Well we can’t just not tell him! Elly Mae was with that bunch! And Coraline!”

“Good riddance,” Houdini murmured, “that goat was an awful biter.”

“Listen,” said Doyle, “you’ve just got to grit your teeth and do it. With luck Verne’ll have a special goat summoning trick or something.”

“I’ve got to!?” Houdini exclaimed. “You are just as responsible!”

“You were supposed to be watching the goats while I was gone,” Doyle shouted incredulously. “This is in no way my fault!”

“You should’ve made sure the gate was secure when you left!”

“So should have you!”

The two men stood glaring at each other.

“Or,” said Houdini, at a slightly more reasonable volume, “or we could find the goats ourselves. Jules never has to know.”

“Where do we even begin to look?” Doyle said. “They could have gone anywhere.”

Houdini thought for a moment, “They could have…” he said slowly, “or…”

“The salt caves!” Doyle exclaimed, coming to the same conclusion at the same time.

“Exactly! You know those goats are salt nuts!”

“Okay,” Doyle said, “Okay, its’ a possibility. There’s no guarantee they’ll be there but it’s worth a look. I mean there’s no point bothering Verne is they are just up there…”

“My dear Detective,” Houdini said, grinning, “that was my thought exactly.”

 

The salt caves were not, in fact, real caves, really. They were just some cracks and crevices a little ways away where there were large deposits of halite. Houdini and Doyle had discovered the goat’s fondness for (or rather, obsession with) rock salt early on. Upon seeing the entire herd grouped around a protrusion of rocks, the Magician had gone to investigate.

“What have you got there?” he had asked.

Elly Mae’s “meh!” had been slightly muffled by a mouth full of stone.

So the Magician and the Detective set off towards the salt caves.

“This would be a lot easier if there were snow to see tracks,” Houdini grumbled. “Isn’t it supposed to snow in Nepal?”

“You don’t need snow to track something,” Doyle pointed out, an excited gleam coming into his eyes. “Look, there’s a hoof print in that bit of moss there. And there was fur on that bush a ways back…”

“Whatever you say, Holmes,” Houdini muttered.

“Oh, hush,” Doyle snapped.

 

“Damnit Arthur, I’m tired,” Houdini puffed a while later.

“We’re nearly there,” the Detective assured him.

 

“Arthur old boy, I don’t mean to alarm you, but it’s getting rather dark…” the Magican looked around warily.

“Harry, trust me, we’re basically on top of the caves,” Doyle said.

 

“Ouch! What was that!”

“Sorry, that was me.”

“Damnit Harry, watch where you’re going!”

“It would be easier to if I could see anything! How are we supposed to find anything in this dark?”

“It’s fine, it’s not even that dark.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“….Five?”

“Trick question, I’m not holding up any! See.”

“Well, you’ve just proved I can’t…”

 

“Okay Harry, I’ll admit it. I have no idea where we are.”

_Gasp_. “Say it isn’t so!”

“Oh, shut up.”

 

“So what’s the plan then chief?”

“Er… You didn’t happen to bring a torch, did you.”

“Of course not. You don’t need a flashlight for a quick jaunt up a mountain.”

“Not exactly a quick jaunt…”

“Oh? What gives you that idea?”

“Shut up Harry.”

 

“Arthur?”

“Right here.”

“Oh, there you are. No, don’t let go! I’m gonna lose you in this black!”

“Okay okay. Still here.”

“Do you have any idea where we are?”

“No. You?”

“Nothing. I guess there’s not much point in setting off anywhere.”

“No, not really. So we’re just gonna stay here then? OOF!”

“Sorry, just sitting down.”

“You didn’t have to drag me with you.”

“Sorry.”

_Sigh._

“Oh, how I must vex you. How shall you ever forgive me my transgressions?”

“Harry…”

“Shutting up, shutting up.”

 

The sun rose bright pink, shining through Doyle’s closed eyelids, waking him in an instant. He sauntered over to Houdini, looking for any signs of consciousness.

“Harry,” he said, shaking the other man awake.

“Wasssat?” Houdini mumbled. “Yer turn to feed goats. I did yesterday.”

“It’s light again!” Doyle said insistently.

Houdini opened one eye a crack. “Arthur?”

“Yes?” Doyle said, peering at the Magician.

“Why the blazes am I lying on the gro – Oh,” Houdini’s eyes snapped open as he remembered the previous day. “GOD DAMN THOSE GOATS!” he yelled, sitting up violently, nearly slamming headfirst into Doyle.

“Well, the good news is it’s light out so we can try to figure out where we are, then get home and tell Verne…”

“Um, Arthur,” Houdini started.

“I know you don’t want to tell him Harry, but we’ve got to at this point, really…”

“Arthur, my dear sweet detective,” Houdini interrupted again , starting to laugh, “Have you had a good look around?”

“What?” Doyle looked around frantically. His face fell like a man over a waterfall. “Oh.”

Houdini rolled in gales of laughter. Not twenty yards away was the goat pen containing…

“Elly Mae my girl!” Verne exclaimed, stepping out the back door of the house. “Ah, there you two are! I was wondering. Getting a bit of early morning air? Excellent! Harry, what are you doing on the ground?”

Houdini stood quickly. “We didn’t expect you Jules.”

“I tried to contact you last night, but you weren’t answering,” he raised his eyebrows.

“We were out,” Doyle said.

“Sure,” Verne winked knowingly. “Night at the theatre, I suppose?”

Houdini blushed, “We _were_ …”

Verne waved him away, “No matter, I can see all the goats are looking very well. I can’t thank you two enough, you’ve dazzled me with your skills as apprentice goatherds.”

Houdini glanced at Doyle, who was fastidiously not looking back at him, trying to smother a grin.

“Thank you sir,” the Detective said. “We’re glad to be a help.”

“Would you like some breakfast?” Houdini asked.

“More like late dinner for me,” Verne said. “I’ll have some tea, and maybe some fruit if you have it. I’m just going to spend some time with the goats first if that’s okay.”

“Sure,” Houdini replied, “Arthur, give me a hand…”

Once inside the house, the men collapsed in fits of laughter.

“Hells bells,” Doyle gasped. “You hear that Harry? We’ve dazzled him with our skills!”

“Well, I’d say we are very accomplished apprentice goatherds!” Houdini guffawed.

“Oh my,” Doyle said. “And look at him now, happy as a clam.”

They both glanced out the window, to where Verne was chatting animatedly with the goats.

“Wait a minute,” Doyle said, brow furrowing, “Where’s Coraline?”

Houdini looked around at the herd, “That blasted goat!” he exclaimed.

“Meh,” said someone behind them.

As one the Magician and the Detective turned and looked at Coraline, happily munching on the corner of the table.

The goat and the men stared each other down. Finally Doyle looked away and said, “Oh, let her have her fun for now.

“Meh!” Coraline said proudly.


End file.
